


Just One More Time

by emma_anna_elisabeth



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BTTF II, Biff has a gun and he plans on using it, Death But Not Really, Delorean, F/M, Poor Marty, Temporary Character Death, What if Doc hadn't been at the roof to catch Marty?, What-If, Why Did I Write This?, kinda graphic descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_anna_elisabeth/pseuds/emma_anna_elisabeth
Summary: The breath catches in Doc’s throat. His heart stops. Deeper in the alley, he lays eyes on a shape that he recognises all too well. Brown messy hair, blue jeans, dirty nike sneakers.What if Doc hadn't been at the roof to catch Marty?
Relationships: Marty McFly/Jennifer Parker
Comments: 24
Kudos: 25





	Just One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I recently watched the triology again - those films are AMAZING! When watching BTTF II I just kept thinking about what would've happened if Doc hadn't been there to catch Marty on the rooftop. This fic is just me playing around with this thought, and I think it turned out rather decent.  
> This is my first fic in this fandom so the characters may be a little bit off, but I hope you like it anyway!
> 
> Lots of Love! TPWK!

His heart is pounding, the building’s much higher than he first thought. Biff’s men shout below him under the stairs, they’re catching up. Gracefully, Marty jumps between the stairs and continues to run upwards. Towards what, he doesn’t really know, he just knows that he has to get away from them. Brown locks fall into his forehead when he quickly glances around to check if they’re still after him. Without more than slowing down for a moment he keeps going. Suddenly there’s a door in front of him. He opens it quickly and slips through as fast as he can. 

The cold night air embraces him and he stops for a second. No, he thinks. Not the roof. Blue eyes flicker around, searching for any possible way out. Not finding one, he runs towards the edge and stops abruptly to look down. Shit! The building is indeed higher than he thought; the height almost makes him dizzy for a moment. Frustrated he slams his hand against the concrete. How is he supposed to get out now?  
Panic slowly starts crawling up along his spine, infecting his blood system. What if they find him? What if he can’t fix this? What if his dad stays dead? _No…_

Marty barely has the time to catch his breath, process the million thoughts in his mind, before a familiar voice makes him spin around. “Go ahead, kid”, Biff says, standing just a couple of metres away from him. The man looks at him, eyes glittering with madness. There’s a small, barely noticeable, smirk on his lips. The light from the neon sign drains him in red, making his shadow even more intimidating than him.  
“Jump. A suicide will be nice and neat.” Biff’s voice is rough, there’s not the slightest tint of compassion or forgiveness to be heard. 

The boy stares wide eyed at the man in front of him. Marty glances over the edge again; his heart skips a beat. The asphalt is so, so far down. He can’t, no, he just _can’t_. His chest rises and falls rapidly, but it still doesn’t feel like he’s getting any air. For a short second the world starts to spin, and he takes a small step back to compensate for his lost balance.  
“What if I don’t?” Marty shouts back, wide eyes flickering between the deadly depth behind him and Biff. 

“Led poisoning”, Biff simply answers and raises his right arm. In his hand there’s that same small gun from before, fitting into Biff’s hand like it was custom made. Breath catches in Marty’s throat as he sees the shining metal and he instinctively takes a step back. He sees how Biff’s mouth twitches and realises that the man can fire any second. Marty’s heart beats so hard that it physically hurts, every beat making his chest quiver. What is he supposed to do now? He’s trapped. Where is Doc when he needs him?  
“But what about the police, Biff?” Marty says, trying his best to stall, knowing very well that the tiniest misstep - both metaphorically and literally - could be the end. “They’re gonna macht up the bullet with that gun.” The boy points at Biff’s jewelry covered hand. 

“Kid, I own the police!” Biff shouts, his whole body trembles. From excitement or madness, Marty can’t tell. But when it comes to Biff, aren’t those two words the same thing? Marty tries his best to prepare himself for the pain. He won’t escape this time.  
In a millisecond, his life flashes before him; what had, could have, and would have been. His mum, dad, siblings. Doc and Einstein.  
_Jennifer_ , oh God, he forgot about her for a moment. It slices his heart when he thinks about everything that won’t ever be. They will never even get the chance. She’ll never know how much he really loves her, and how badly he wants her life to be what she always dreamed of. Now that will never be, it’ll all end with him. A bullet in his chest. Tears threaten to spill out of his eyes. He hopes that Biff doesn’t see them, he doesn’t want to seem weak. Like a coward. But he just can’t help it; the thought of Jennifer waking up in the wrong 1985 without him, learning about what happened… Gosh, he can’t help but tear up. 

For a second, some part of him secretly hopes that she doesn’t love him anymore, that her feelings have suddenly changed in her sleep. Because even though it breaks his heart to think that way, it would still be worth it if it meant that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t hurt her as much. Marty just wants her to be happy. But he knows hope is useless; Jennifer loves him more than anything, he knows that. 

What the hell is wrong with Biff? _God, please, I just wanna live and go home._

“Besides, they couldn’t match up the bullet that killed your old man.” Biff’s lips form into a mad grin. It doesn’t take long for Marty to understand what the man just said. The fear that a second ago had possessed his body disappears in an instant, and fury blossoms in his chest. “You son of a -”, Marty hisses through gritted teeth, voice angry and somehow betrayed.  
Biff interrupts the boy by mouthing an “oh” and clicking the safety of the gun. Marty’s mind starts racing. No, nonono! I need more time!  
Was this how his dad had felt? Heart pounding, adrenaline pulsing through his veins, desperately trying to think about anything else than the bullet that was seconds away from tearing through his body; muscles, bones, veins and all. Biff killed his dad, Biff killed him, Biff killed him… 

Marty doesn’t want to die. There’s still so much he hasn’t had the time to do, there’s so much he wants to do again. _Just one more time._  
Music floods through his mind; he wants to pursue a music career, play guitar and get lost in his own head. _Just one more time._  
Jennifer's soft voice echoes in his head; Marty wants nothing more than to hold her tightly in his arms again, feel her warm breath against his skin, inhale the scent of her new washed hair. _Just one more time._  
Mom and dad suddenly appear before his inner gaze; he wants them back, feel their safe arms around him, see their proud smiles again. _Just one more time._  
Doc’s excited smile and slightly crazy eyes flash through his mind; Marty just wants to see him like that again, happy, in his prime. _Just one more time._

Is that too much to ask? 

The cold wind and Biff’s satisfied murmur tell Marty that it is. He’s never going to get the chance to experience those things again. A desperate sob escapes him and he glances down at the ground, far beneath him, again. Would it hurt less to jump?

“I suppose it’s poetic justice”, Biff growls, sounding satisfied. “Two McFly’s with the same gun.” Marty’s blood freezes in his veins. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. _This is it._  
He closes his eyes.

CRACK! 

Blue eyes snap back open, he gasps. Biff laughs and spins around. Marty throws a pained gaze at the older man and staggers backwards. Pain explodes in his abdomen and he instinctively bends over, covers his stomach with his hands. He feels the warm liquid on his fingers before he sees the bright red on his hands. _No_ , this isn’t happening, he thinks as he stares at his crimson shirt; the dark stain between his ribs grows bigger by the second.  
His legs give way and the boy collapses next to the edge, half lying, half sitting on the small wall that’s supposed to keep people from falling down. 

He tries his best to breathe but all he can manage is a dull gurgling. The familiar taste of iron fills his mouth as he coughs; blood gives his lips the same colour as the roses in his mother’s garden. His mom, oh _mom_.  
Marty’s face distorts in pain and he closes his eyes; a fruitless attempt to cope with the pain. Panic strikes him again, harder this time. The boy gasps desperately for air, for he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe. God, help me, he prays, not sure if there even is a God that’s listening out there. This is it. Shit _shit_! Gosh, this is heavy.. I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying, _I’m dying_ … He gasps desperately for air. 

But, wait! _Doc!_ Marty struggles to sit up and snatch a glance of the city. Doc can still save him, _right_? If only there was a way for Marty to reach out to him and tell him to come. “Help me”, he whispers into the darkness.  
Why aren’t you coming, Doc? Where are you when I need you? Please just be here. I need you. _Please_. 

“No one’s coming, kid”, Biff says as he calmly fiddles with the gun. “Just stop hoping already.”

Marty doesn’t listen to him. A new cough rips through his body, and more blood trickles down from the corner of his mouth. Pain washes over him, again and again and again. He can’t think straight.  
“Mom”, he mouths and a tear slips out of his eye. Where are you Mom? Please help me, mum, save me. I’m scared...

I don’t wanna go, Mom. I don’t wanna go. 

Marty wants to scream, but he can’t even form the words to whisper.

Mom? Mom?! _MOM?!!_ Please just help me Mom, _MOM!_

But why should the universe have mercy on a seventeen year old boy on a rooftop, when it doesn’t spare anyone else?

Biff walks up to the boy and grins at him. “Sorry, kid.” Another shot burns off and Marty’s beautiful blue eyes lose their life. His body relaxes and falls down on the wall. His arm drops from his stomach to the side, hangs loosely at the side of the building. His dark brown head tilts to the side and that’s all it takes for gravity to take him.  
Biff huffs in surprise as he watches the boy fall off the edge. Without really believing his eyes, he walks up to the edge and looks down. Huffing again, he nods contentedly before walking back inside again. The gun moves gracefully when he fiddles with it. 

Doc is walking Einstein through the filthy streets, just looking around. How could it turn out this way? How was it even possible that the sports almanack had destroyed so much? A disappointed frown forms on his face, eyes gazing over the devastation before him. He never should have invented that time machine, it only brought evil and destruction.  
He stops to look at the big building before him, Biff’s monstrous house. The neon lights shine high above him, and Doc grimaces in disgust. This used to be a car wash. His mind goes back to his 1985, the original 1985. 

Suddenly, his attention is drawn to one of the dark alleys beside the building. There’s a small crowd standing behind the parked cars. They point at something right beside the wall and shake their heads slowly, before leaving one by one. Normally, Doc wouldn’t have given this the slightest thought. But as Einstein stops to stare at them, he even barks a couple of times, Doc sets his course on the alley. The dog rarely made a fuss, so Doc thought it best to listen to him. 

As they look at the crowd Doc’s mind speeds up; a strange feeling of worry climbs up his spine. “What is it, Einstein? What are you seeing, boy ?” Doc asks, petting the dog gently on the head. Einstein doesn’t turn to look at him, as he normally does. Something’s up, Doc just knows it. 

He doesn’t really know why he suddenly starts to worry for the boy now, not when Marty has always got out of every other strait, every other time. But somehow, Doc can’t help but feel uneasy. Worry spreads through his body, embracing him with it’s cold arms. 

They start walking towards the crowd and a sigh of relief passes Doc’s lips as he lays eyes on what the other people are looking at. It’s a wrecked motorcycle. The old man smiles and puts a hand on his chest, sighs again. “See, Einstein, nothing to worry about.” He bends down to pet the dog again, but Einstein’s brown eyes makes him freeze in his tracks. He lets his gaze wander around the alley, in the same direction as Einstein’s.  
Then, the breath catches in Doc’s throat. His heart stops. Deeper in the alley, he lays eyes on a shape that he recognises all too well. Brown messy hair, blue jeans, dirty nike sneakers.

“Marty!” Doc shouts as he rushes towards the boy, Einstein is right behind him. “Marty!” 

As Doc gets closer, his legs seem to turn into stone; he can’t move. Einstein pulls on the leash and whines, he looks up at Doc as if to ask him why Marty’s not moving. _C’mon, you gotta help him._  
But just by looking, Doc knows. The truth stabs him in the guts; the sight of the motionless figure before him breaks his heart. Doc’s shocked eyes wander over Marty’s body. He doesn’t have to check the pulse to know that he won’t ever see the boy smile again. It feels like his heart is collapsing from the inside. He curses himself for inventing the time machine. If it hadn’t been for that _damned_ DeLorean... Look at how they massacred his boy. This never would’ve happened if he hadn’t traveled in time. 

Einstein whines again and pulls the rope from Doc’s hand. The fury dog runs up to Marty’s still form, licks his cheek, puffs on his shoulder, and whines again. He looks up at Doc, barks, blank eyes glitter in the darkness, and Doc finally finds the strength to walk up to the boy.

Marty’s lying on his back, completely still; his hip twisted in a weird way and his right arm bent in an unnatural angle. His right elbow is crushed; white bones stick out through the soft skin, glittering in the dark. Great scots, he must’ve fallen, Doc thinks and glances up along the wall of the building. The neon lights look down at him, grinning. 

His gaze drops and he falls down on his knees beside the boy. God, he’s so small. It never really occurred to Doc when they spent time together, but Marty was actually just a kid. Doc had always seen him as an equal, like an adult. Marty was so mature and quick-witted; he was a confident and good hearted, kind and charming young man. His only weakness - sometimes Doc had found it rather pathetic- was that he couldn’t stand it whenever someone called him chicken. But, again, Marty was just a kid. He had time to learn, to make mistakes, to get better. Or at least so Doc thought. Until today. 

A sob rises from Doc’s throat and he covers his face in his hands. Now that he’s closer he sees the two holes in Marty’s shirt, one in his stomach and one in the middle of his chest, and the big dark stains. There’s blood on his chin and blood spattered teeth hide behind red tainted lips. Marty’s sky blue eyes are still open, staring emotionlessly at the dark sky. Doc remembers how much life they once contained, how they sparkled. Now, all of that is gone. Marty is gone.

Marty always sparkled with life, it was as if his body glowed, just by the enjoyment of being alive. Marty’s appearance alone brought colour to everything around him, even though most people never paid enough attention to see it. To most people, Marty was just an ordinary kid, nothing special about him at all. A slacker and idiot even, some would say. But Marty’s true beauty and strength came from the inside, from his heart. Doc had known the boy for long enough to know where to look to see it.

What defined him was his bravery and kindness. Doc had never met anyone like Marty before, neither in the present, the past nor the future; Marty was one of a kind. He had one of those souls that were too good for this world, but still tried to fit in. 

How he wished he could take it all back; not take Marty with him on this insane journey through time. Look where he’s gotten the boy. What had he been thinking? Doc just wants to see Marty’s excited eyes again, hear him play on his guitar, watch as he tries his best to help with an experiment. _Just one more time._

Tears spill out of Docs tired eyes. So, this is how their story ends. In a dark filthy alley.  
He reaches out to close Marty’s eyes, but as soon as he touches the skin he wishes he hadn’t. Marty is still warm, still warm in a way that makes Doc want to throw up. The surface of Marty’s skin is cold, unnaturally cold, but Doc can still feel the rest of the warmth radiate from within the boy. It breaks Docs heart even more. It’s so wrong. Marty shouldn’t be this cold, it isn’t right. Not, Marty, not his Marty. 

“I’m sorry”, he whispers as he gently moves the hair out of Marty’s face. ”I’m so sorry.” Beneath the brown locks, his forehead is splattered by blood. Doc’s gaze follows the trace of red to the back of Marty’s head. It’s crushed.  
“I’m so sorry, Marty.” A new sob tears through his body and he has to look away. Marty’s battered body is just too much.  
He stands up and takes one last look at the boy, his dear friend. Marty didn’t deserve this, he had so much left to do. He and Jennifer would get married, start a family some day, be happy and just… live their lives. What would happen to that future now? What about Marty’s and Jennifer’s son that they just saved in 2015? 

No, Doc knows what he has to do. He can’t abandon Marty like this, it’s not fair, it’s not what he deserves. Doc knows it’s risky; it could cause problems throughout the space-time continuum that he doesn’t even have the slightest chance to foresee. But why can’t he use the time machine to do good for once? What point of having one is it then, if you can’t save the people that are closest to you? The people that happen to get into the crossfire by accident; the people that you love. 

It breaks his heart to leave the boy behind, but he tells himself it’s gonna be fine. Marty’s gonna be fine.  
“C’mon Einstein”, he says. The dog reluctantly leaves with him. 

***

“Besides, they couldn’t match up the bullet that killed your old man.” Biff smiles and looks at Marty, waiting for the boy to realise. Marty glares back at him, his mind quickly puzzles it all together. All fear suddenly disappears and his blood starts boiling. Fire flows in his lungs, burns his soul.  
“You son of a -”, Marty hisses. Biff killed him, Biff fucking killed him. Marty wanted to throw himself at the man in front of him, rip him into pieces.  
But he doesn’t. A subtle click from the gun makes his mouth run dry; he knows that Biff isn’t joking. The fire within the boy suddenly goes out, and all that remains is smoke, coldness. Fear. _Biff isn’t joking._ Marty’s gaze wanders desperately between Biff and the abyss behind him. When he looks down, he stops for a moment. _Thank God!_ The DeLorean’s shining car plate glitters in the red lights. Marty resists the urge to smile. He knew it: Doc would be here. The doctor never failed him, he was always there when Marty needed him. 

“I suppose it’s poetic justice”, Biff growls, sounding satisfied. “Two McFly’s with the same gun.” Marty glares at him, and steps up on the small wall. It’s a manifest of protest; Biff won’t get the satisfaction of killing him, like he murdered his father. The boy simply takes a step backwards, and that’s all it takes for gravity to take him. 

Biff huffs in surprise and looks at the empty wall, a mixture of confusion and satisfaction resting on his face. “Idiot”, he mutters, as he walks towards the edge to get a glimpse of what’s left of the boy. Another huff passes his lips and he fiddles with the gun.  
Then suddenly, his eyes widen, he stares in horror at the scene before him. Marty’s form rises from behind the edge, like a ghost rises from the dead. He looks calmly at the man on the roof, just observing as Biff’s whole worldview crackles.

“What the hell…?” Biff doesn’t even get to finish before Doc opens the door and knocks him out. 

“Nice shot, Doc!” Marty exclaims, as he loosens his posture, smiles in triumph. “You’re not gonna believe this. We gotta go back to 1955!” He says as he gracefully climbs into the flying car.  
“I don’t believe it!” Doc answers, the words slip out of him a bit too shocked than he’d liked them to be. But what can one do when the friend you just saw lay dead in the dirty street, suddenly sits next to you again, alive and breathing?

Marty glances quickly at Doc before shutting the door. “Hey, thanks for the help up there”, he says, words weighing with gratitude. “I don’t know what would've happened if you hadn’t come.” A huff escapes his lips. “Right on time.”  
“Nothing to worry about.” Doc shrugs and forces a smile. Even though Marty is back- _and he is fine!_ \- it still feels like he’s lost the boy. Well, he did one time, in fact. And that was one time too much; Doc would never get the memories out of his head; the sight of Marty’s lifeless body was forever burned into the back of his mind. 

“Jeez, Doc!” Marty breaks the silence, he looks at the older man with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You look like someone just died…” It is more a question than a statement.  
Doc’s eyes flicker around, he swallows and shrugs again. “Ah, no”, he says, convincingly brushing it off. “It’s nothing, don’t you worry about that.”  
“Well, you're the doc, Doc.” Marty raises his hand and smiles, leaning back into his seat. 

Doc sees the smile on Marty’s lips. He still can’t quite believe that he’s there, back in the DeLorean, _alive_. The boy seems to have let it go, but the question still rings in Doc’s ears: “You look like someone died…”

_If you only knew Marty, if you only knew._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!  
> Please comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> (Did you get the MCU reference?)


End file.
